


Care and Feeding of Your New Demon

by Kagemirai



Series: From Hell [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean Winchester, Character Death, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, M/M, Torture, Torturer Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagemirai/pseuds/Kagemirai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean became a demon Sam didn't realize how much work and trouble they were in for, especially when the angels started getting involved. Good thing Alastair gave him that pamphlet. Sequel to Back from Hell</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to part 2! I’ve already started work on the third installment. I hope you enjoy this as much as I have writing it. Instead of doing -Breaks- like in the first one I have character switches so the focus is based on the character named at the top of the section. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding Supernatural, nor do I make anything from writing this.

 

-Sam- 

            Sam held the pamphlet, staring down at it unsure if he should read it or not. He wasn't even one hundred percent sure it wasn't just a joke on Alastair's part. The cover was black and in red lettering was written, “Care and Feeding of Your New Demon". He had known that Dean was a demon when Alastair brought him back but did demons really have special care instructions? He turned the pamphlet over in his hands, unsure if he really wanted to open it. Dean was out getting lunch, it had been a month since he had turned and nothing really seemed to be all that different. The only things that troubled him were that he was quick to anger, quicker than usual, and he liked to sing when they had to torture someone for information, usually Stairway to Heaven. Dean didn't know that Alastair had left the pamphlet last time he had stopped by. The white eyed demon tended to stop in once a week to sleep with his brother and get an update on how they were doing. He wasn't sure he would ever understand the relationship the two demons had and wasn't sure he wanted to either. Castiel only came by when Dean wasn't around. He would ask him questions, mainly about what they were doing and if Dean was doing anything worrisome. The angel seemed confused with Dean's behavior, how human he was behaving. Sam left out his singing while torturing but Dean was still Dean and he felt as though Castiel needed to see that. He took a deep breath, opening to the first page. The entire thing was on black paper but he was thankful the text inside wasn't red, it was written in white.

            "New demons can be difficult creatures, especially until they gain control of themselves. Care must be taken in not angering them. The more powerful a demon the less vulnerabilities they have. New demons tend to have all normal vulnerabilities so care should be taken. If they were transformed by a high ranking demon it is possible they will gain the same strengths of their creator." Sam rubbed his temples, listening for the Impala. He heard the tell tale rumble and shoved the pamphlet back into his bag.

            "Hey, Sammy! I'm back with food!" He came in with two bags; one of them very obviously contained a whole pie.

            "Salad?" He questioned, taking the offered bag.

            Dean rolled his eyes, "Yes, salad, pansy." He plopped down at the table, pulling out his pie.

            "Is that all you got?" Sam's look made him laugh; he looked severely disappointed in him.

            "It's not like I need to eat. Don't need to eat, drink, or take a piss."

            He took a bite of his salad, "What about your body?"

            He took a big bite, savoring it, "What about it? I sustain and heal it, well, I don't have to heal it but dammit this is my body."

            "You're going to get fat if you eat the whole pie."

            Dean grumbled, taking a violent bite of his pie, "Will not."

            They finished their food, "Tell me about demons."

            The fork clattered to the plate, "I don't want to talk about it. I mean, if you have specific questions..."

            "I was just hoping you would tell me if there was anything I needed to know." Sam didn't want to ask anything specific; he wanted Dean to open up.

            "Sorry Sammy."

            He would have to get his answers from the pamphlet. It was odd that they even had such a thing. Maybe Alastair had made it just for him and wasn't that an odd idea, "I need some shut eye, since you don't need to sleep why don't you find us a hunt."

            "Can do. I'll be back by morning." He saluted, going out the door and into the night.

            He pulled out the pamphlet, starting to read, "Demons do not need to eat or sleep however some do to blend in with humans. Each demon has its own goals and aims and many want power and position. Power is gained by age and experience as well as ruthlessness. Some demons form family units, usually between those they have broken. There are those who also make partners out of those they break. These partners are held above 'children', they are made stronger through blood exchange, rising through ranks far faster than normal. As they gain in power, resistances and immunities change."

            He rubbed his hands over his face, setting the pamphlet to the side, "Partner? Is that what Dean is to Alastair? Does that mean Dean is going to wind up some high powered demon?"

 

-Alastair-

 

            Hell is what you make of it and too many people lack imagination. He moved easily through the halls and corridors, looking for Crowley. The crossroads demon was causing a bit of a problem. He was making a nuisance of himself; he wanted hell for his own. Alastair was willing to share power, to a certain extent, he was happy to torture but he wanted things to run smoothly. Crowley was putting a damper on things running properly. He would have preferred to be building up Dean, the young demon was his partner after all and the reason he made Sam that ridiculous pamphlet.

            "Crowley, do I need to put you back on my rack?" He slid his fingers along Crowley's door, pressing it open to find the demon seated behind his desk.

            It wasn't everyday that Crowley hung out in hell. He had a beautiful place topside but Alastair had requested he remain below for the time being, mainly so he'd be easier to find.

            "Alastair, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He stood as the white eyed demon walked in, motioning for him to sit.

            Alastair's smile was not...nice, "You have been going behind my back. You've been a very, bad, boy." He sat down, crossing his legs, "I do not take kindly to whispers of an insurrection, an insurrection led by my second in command no less. I wonder if you need a reminder of why I am not to be messed with. Perhaps I will even let Dean carry out the sentence; he can be very creative when he feels I'm threatened."

            Crowley looked flustered for a moment, "You've misheard, why would I do such a thing?"

            He examined his fingernails, "Why indeed? I've been asking myself that same question. Why would Crowley betray me? Then I figured it out, power. You don't want to share, you want it for yourself. You forget that I've been around for a long time, longer than Lilith. You also seem to forget my skills, I think you need a reminder, I really do. I also think you're going to get one. Be in my work room in an hour and don't be late. This is contingent on you wanting to remain on my good side of course. If you don't..." He spread his arms, getting to his feet, "I shall see you soon, Crowley."

            He had given himself just enough time to collect Dean and bring him down, provided he wasn't busy on a hunt. He wanted some time with his partner and what better way than to torture someone.  He willed himself up, using his link with Dean to find him. He possessed the closest body, choosing to watch his chosen sift through newspapers and online articles for a few seconds before approaching him. He snuck up behind him, sliding his hands down his shoulders, down his chest, kissing his throat softly.

            "Do you want to come play?" He purred into his ear, licking the lobe softly.

            Dean scowled, tipping his head to look at who Alastair was possessing. He wasn't impressed, the man was a little heavy set and balding, "Who the hell are you possessing?" He pulled away from him, turning in his chair, "I don't like it."

            Alastair rolled his eyes, "A traveling salesman. Do you want to come play with Crowley or not?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

            "Yes, know anywhere I can put my body? I think it would freak Sammy out."

            "We can put it in the trunk of the Impala." He pulled Dean to his feet, "Come, we have to get back down there before Crowley shows up."

            "Leaving my body in the trunk of my baby." He grumbled softly, letting Alastair drag him out of the library and to the Impala, "Get in."

            Dean opened the trunk with a sigh, crawling in, "This is going to be a tight fit."

            "Hurry up and get out of that body." He closed him in before leaving the salesman.

            Two twists of black smoke spun together before sinking into the ground. Alastair's work room materialized around them. Crowley hadn't arrived yet so they still had some time to prepare. The king of the crossroads stepped into the room, he maintained his pride quite well, his head held high.

            "Hey Crowley, how's it going?" Dean grinned, black eyes meeting red, "I hear you've been bad. Doesn't Alastair treat you well? Why do you have to go and do something stupid like try to overthrow him?"

            He sighed softly, "Can we get on with this?"

            Alastair motioned to the rack he had brought out just for the red eyed demon, "Why don't you strap yourself in? Dean will make sure it's nice and tight."

            His resolve was wavering; Alastair could see it in his eyes. Crowley was stubborn but he was afraid. There wasn't a demon in existence that didn't fear Alastair; there were just times that a reminder was needed to remember exactly why they were afraid. Dean tightened the straps, perhaps a little too tight if the look on Crowley's face was any indication, but that was all part of the anticipation.

            "How's that? Tight enough? I think I could ratchet them down a little more, what do you think?" He patted Crowley's cheek, looking back at Alastair.

            "I think it's good enough, we don't want him too uncomfortable." He picked up his favorite blade, "I hope this will help you understand, I'm willing to share power with you but I'm not willing to give it up completely. Things need to be run efficiently and until that is settled you don't get to visit your swanky house and I don't get to spend the time with Dean that he deserves. Hell is the priority, beyond petty squabbles about who is in charge." He slid the blade against his cheek, "You might want to get rid of your suit unless you want it ruined." He stated absently.

            Dean stood back, watching intently as Crowley's suit disappeared. The moment it was gone the blade slid down his throat, slicing into the skin of his shoulder. A cry escaped his lips, Crowley wasn't a fighter and torture was not something he enjoyed in any way, shape, or form. He didn't like being on either side of the rack, he was a salesman through and through.

            "This was completely avoidable ya know." Dean's fingers slid over the tray of implements.

            "Why don't you tell us your plans?" Alastair's tone was conversational as he slid the blade down his ribs, watching the skin split beneath the blade.

            He let out a cry, trying to jerk away but Dean made his bindings tight enough he couldn't move, "I-I've been convincing demons to follow me!"

            Alastair shook his head, "I'm disappointed, did you think I didn't already know that, try again." The blade slid between his ribs, blood spurting from the fresh wound, "Dean, hand me the spreader." He held his hand out, waiting.

            Dean grinned, picking up the rib spreader and putting it in his hand. Crowley began fighting in earnest but Alastair held him steady, wrapping a hand around one of his revealed ribs, "Tell me more." He slotted the spreader between is fourth and fifth ribs.

            "Dammit Alastair, stop!" He screamed as the older demon began to apply pressure, "I've been making deals!"

            The two torturers laughed, "I would hope so, it is your job." Dean smirked, taking the blade from Alastair and moving to his undamaged side.

            "Deals with angels!" He shouted as Dean began to cut.

            The pair immediately stilled, "What kind of deals?" Alastair's voice was a low hiss as he twisted the spreader, cracking his ribs.

            "For souls, they want power, I give them souls, they let me run hell!"

            Dean jammed the blade it, dragging it down hard, slicing into his ribs, "What else?"

            "D-Dean, come on, haven't I had enough? Would Sam want you to be doing this? I-I've helped you out. Have you forgotten?"

            The young demon's eyes flashed with anger, "Don't you dare bring Sammy into this." He growled as Alastair took that moment to spread his ribs fully, listening to them crack.

            Crowley screamed, "Enough! I'll talk, stop."

            "Speak." Neither of them moved.

            "They want Sam, I don't know anything else, I swear. I give them souls and I get hell but they want Sam. I told them I couldn't help with that."

            "I have to get back, Alastair, take me back. I need to make sure Sammy is ok." He paused, eyes widening, "I've been gone too long."

            Alastair laid a hand on his shoulder, "Calm, have a drink and I'll take you back topside." His wrist was bleeding when he offered it to Dean.

            He drank fast and deep, not giving himself a chance to savor it like he usually did, "I'm good, let's go."

            With a flash of black and white light Dean found himself back in his body. He quickly undid the latch, jumping out and into the driver's seat. He made it back to the motel in record time. Sam had to be alright, there were no two ways about it.

 

-Castiel-

 

            Something strange was transpiring. Before he had raised Dean from Perdition he had never questioned his orders. This human was different; he and his brother had stretched the limits of his patience and the boundaries of his idea of what a human is. He liked them, humans, and he found himself liking Dean and Sam even more so. Why was it now that he felt the desire to go against orders? He had procured the Enochian boxes for them, much to his brother’s distaste; he had even allowed Dean to become a demon when he knew what his brother Michael wanted him for. Yes, he had made an effort to expel Dean back to hell but Alastair had banished him instead. If he were ready to admit it to himself he would realize that he let Dean fall.

            "Castiel, do you seek to redeem yourself for assisting those...monkeys?"

            He didn't like Uriel; he didn't feel as though his behavior was acceptable for an Angel of The Lord. His orders had been becoming more erratic, he was to spy on the Winchesters, a job he didn't mind and if he were to tell the truth he didn't give Uriel all of the information he knew. When Dean became a demon Michael had raged, he needed Dean and he needed Dean human. To do that he needed more power, it worried him.

            "I will do whatever is necessary." He stated calmly, eyes locked with Uriel's.

            Uriel looked pleased, "We require Sam Winchester."

            "As you command." He disappeared. He had no intention of delivering Sam to the angels, however he had every intention of warning the brothers, even if that meant facing Dean, he would protect the brothers with everything he had.

            Sam was asleep when Castiel appeared in his hotel room. He gazed down at the sleeping man, knowing that he needed to warn him but he looked so peaceful. He moved to grasp his shoulder when the door swung open. Dean looked like the incarnation of the Wrath of God, or in his case, the Wrath of Hell.

            "Get the hell away from my brother." His usually green eyes were flat black in his anger.

            Castiel stepped back, raising his hands slightly, "I mean you no harm. I was just going to wake him; I need to speak with both of you." He stated calmly.

            Dean hissed, hands clenching into fists, "I said, get away from him!" He moved forward, closing the distance between them.

            He looked flustered; he couldn't understand why Dean was behaving in such a way, perhaps he was afraid he would send him back to hell, "I have no intention of returning you to hell." He cocked his head to the side.

            "I don't care about hell, Alastair can just let me back out again. Crowley told me what you wanted; you feathered bastards want to take Sam. It's not going to happen."

            "Crowley? Why would a demon know anything regarding angels?" He looked confused, no angel should be cavorting with a demon, the fact he was now went against his beliefs but Dean was different.

            Dean snorted, "Like you don't know. Spare me the innocent shtick. You're not taking my brother and that's final."

            "It is true I was ordered by Uriel to collect Sam, however I have no intention of doing so. I came to warn you."

            The demon scowled, looking just as confused as Castiel felt, "You're not following orders? Since when do you do that?"

            "Since Sam began showing me the truth of humanity and the truth of you."

            "Say I believe you, what do you want to do about it?" He sat down next to Sam, shaking him, "Wake up Sammy, we got a flyboy here, he wants to talk to you." He paused when Sam grumbled, "How you kept that you were talking to an angel from me I have no idea but you better wake up and come clean before I start pulling your hairs out one at a time."

            "Dean? If you start pulling my hair out I'm going to put IcyHot in your boxers." He mumbled, opening an eye to look up at him.

            "Why would you torture each other in such a manner? It hardly seems anything brothers would do to each other. Are you angry?" He paused, "What is IcyHot?"

            Dean rolled his eyes, "No, it's something humans do, we threaten and tease. We're not mad at each other." He ignored his last question.

            Sam sat up slowly, "Cas, what brings you here?"

            "My brothers desire you and I have come to realize that it cannot be for anything good. I am unsure what their purpose is but I could not let this stand. You aim to be good people and should not have garnered the attention of Uriel. I have come to warn you and if necessary offer my assistance."

            "Thank you, is there anything else you can tell us?" Sam spoke; staying calm considering the situation he was in, angels wanting to kidnap him.

            "I shall be in touch." He disappeared without another word.

            "Damn feathered bastards. At least Cas isn't half bad, for an angel."

            Sam sighed softly, "Did you find a hunt?"

            Dean scowled, "The angels coming after you isn't enough? To top it off Crowley is working with them. He's giving them souls and in return he wants to usurp Alastair and run hell, I think this is a pretty big hunt."

            "What are we hunting though? The angels want me but who and why? We don't have anyone to hunt. I'm sure Alastair has Crowley so that leaves him out. I think we need to wait, remember that the angels can't track us because of what Cas did."

            The demon shook his head, "They can but it takes a lot of time and effort so it isn't always worth it. I was reading through some of Alastair's texts, perhaps there is something in one of them that can help us."

 

-Dean-

 

            Alastair's books were helpful. Dean and Sam had managed to find a spell to further mask them from angels but some of the ingredients were pretty rare. That was how they found themselves hunting a pack of vampires through Eastern Oregon. Why they had decided to go to a high desert in the middle of summer they had no idea. They needed vampire blood and a lot of it. If it had been a small amount they would have just asked Lenore but this required three vampires to be fully drained. Dean was getting tired and grumpy. It was true he didn't need sleep but he liked it and even Sam could admit that it evened out the demon's volatile temper.

            "Why don't you let me drive and you can take a nap?" Sam's voice was quiet; he didn't want to piss his brother off.

            "Demon, don't need sleep. How many times do we have to go over this?" He growled lowly, eyes flashing black as he gave Sam a sidelong glance.

            He raised his hands in supplication, "I know, just thought you'd like a break."

            "What I want is to find these assholes and bleed them dry so we don't have to worry about winged rats coming after us." He slammed his palm against the wheel, "Dammit Sammy! I need some release!" He growled, "I feel all tense."

            "You do better when you have some rest."

            Dean hissed softly before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "I'm ok; I'll rest after we find the vampires."

            Sam had a feeling this was a losing battle, "Ok, they were heading towards Prineville so hopefully we can cut them off there."

            The pair drove the rest of the way in silence. The small town of Prineville was nestled near Crooked River. The vampires were here, somewhere. Dean parked, stepping out into the summer heat. It was midday so the vampires were more than likely sleeping. This gave the pair time to find them. It was bright and hot and Dean really wanted some pie and to cut into someone, he could get one of those things at least. The diner was perfect, pies were on display in a fancy glass case that made Dean feel like the pies were just for him, lit up like a gift from Heaven.

            "Pie first, vampires after." He rubbed his hands together, "Apple pie my good lady!" Dean slid up to the counter, Sam close beside him.

            He slowly savored each bite, moaning almost lewdly as he ate, Sam sat beside him, getting a salad. Eating his rabbit food as Dean ate his pie. As they ate an older man came and took a seat next to Sam, he reminded Dean of Bobby but gone completely grey. Dean peeked over to get a better look at him and nearly dropped his fork, it was a hunter. No human besides Sam knew of his new condition and he wanted to keep it that way. Sam seemed oblivious to the hunter beside him but Dean tensed, focusing back on his pie, his shoulders hunched.

            "Let's get going Sammy." He put a few dollars on the counter, getting to his feet.

            "But I didn't finish my salad!"

            Dean growled, grabbing his arm, "Now Sammy." He clenched his teeth slightly, pulling him out of the diner and into the street.

            "What the hell Dean?" He pulled his arm away, "What was that about?"

            He splayed his fingers over the hood of his car, "Sam, that guy that was next to you is a hunter. What do you think he's going to do when he finds out I'm a demon?"

            Sam closed his eyes, rubbing his temples, "Sorry, think he's after the same thing we are?"

            "Probably! We need to get this done, fast. It's not a very big town, there's not too many places they can hide." Dean was obviously agitated, "You drive, we need to get going and I'm too on edge to drive." Sam got behind the wheel, heading toward the edge of town, an eye out for any sign of the vampires, "There!" He pointed to an older building.

            "How do you know?" He pulled up beside it.

            "The windows are covered and the cloth looks new. They've got to be in there."

            "Let's get us some vampire blood then." Sam stepped out, opening the trunk and grabbing two machetes.

            Dean took one, feeling the weight in his hand, "Front door?"

            Sam nodded, "Front door." They moved forward, Dean in front, pushing the door open.

            It squeaked softly, the dust had already been disturbed by the vampires, he was sure of it. There were five of them, lounged out over moth eaten furniture. They had to keep three alive long enough to collect their blood, this was definitely one of the most difficult things they had been forced to do. He could feel the power thrumming under his skin, waiting to be used. It had been too long since he had let loose. Sam swung, slicing the head from one of them before moving on to the next. Dean straddled one of them keeping him tight to the couch, his power reached out and pinned the remaining two.

            "You know, I feel so much better!" He closed his eyes for a moment while Sam took care of the last one, "Have the jars?" He looked back at Sam as he approached, "Sorry buddy, we need your blood." He patted the vampire's cheek, keeping the struggling creature pinned easily.

            Sam grabbed his arm, slicing into his wrist, watching the vampire blood spill into the jar. They were on the final one when the door was kicked in and the hunter from the diner stepped inside. Dean's eyes were black from using his powers and Sam was draining the blood into the vessel. The hunter looked shocked at seeing the two of them and lowered his machete.

            "Shit." The two brothers were frozen, staring at the hunter. None of them moved and it was thankfully long enough for the blood to finish draining, "Sammy, why don't we make our exit before he gets his bearings." Dean's voice came out as a low whisper as he slowly picked up one of the jars, leaving Sam to carry two of them.

            They shared a look before running out the back leaving a stunned hunter in their wake, "We have to leave." Sam shoved his machete and the two jars into the trunk of the Impala, Dean handed over his before the trunk was slammed shut.

            "No, shit Sammy, I don't want to be in the line of fire when he gets a hold of himself!" Dean was in the driver's seat in a flash, Sam almost closing himself in the passenger door as he tried to get in as quickly as possible.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding Supernatural, nor do I make anything from writing this.

 

-Bobby-

 

            He hadn't heard from the Winchesters since Sam detoxed from the demon blood. The last news he got was that they had taken care of Lilith and stopped the apocalypse. He kept an ear out for anything that might pertain to them. It was disheartening, he loved those boys, and Dean wasn't answering his phone. Every time his phone rang he hoped it was them and so far he had been disappointed every time. So when his phone rang this time he was sure he was going to be let down again.

            "What?" His voice came out gruff and short.

            "Bobby? This is Kenny; you wanted news on the Winchester boys, right?"

            He knew that voice, a little rat of a hunter, always out to save his own skin, "What do you know?" His tone brokered no disagreement.

            "I saw them, in Prineville Oregon. It looked like one of them was possessed! They were harvesting vampires for blood, some creepy shit."

            He started shaking, nearly dropping the phone, "You're sure it was them?" He was nearly yelling, "Kenny! You're positive it was them?"

            "Yeah, I'm sure. What do you want to happen? We could try to perform an exorcism but who knows how long that demon's been riding him."

            Bobby glared at the phone cradle as if Kenny could see him, "Don't you lay a finger on them and spread the word that they are to be left alone. I will take care of it, so make sure everyone you told about them knows that I will end them if I find out that they went after the Winchesters." He hung up without another word to the rat.

            He had to prepare and he had to find out what they were getting vampire blood for. If it was the demon that wanted it then it couldn't be for anything good. His gear was already loaded into his car but the boys would be long gone and he had some research to do. He was like a man possessed, hell bent on finding out what they were after. He tore through his books, hunting for any mention on the uses of vampire blood. When he found it he virtually collapsed into his chair, burying his face in his hands.

            "What have you boys gotten into that you're hiding from angels?"

 

-Sam-

 

            That hunter had seen them. Had seen the ebony of Dean's eyes. They had done their best to avoid it, to avoid letting Bobby know about Dean's...condition. Now all their hard work was ruined and he was sure Bobby knew that at least one of them was possessed by a demon. It would be worse if he knew the truth, that Dean _was_ the demon.

            Sam jumped, his phone ringing, "It's Bobby." He swallowed hard, staring at the phone.

            "Answer it, he already knows."

            "Hey Bobby, how are you?" Sam tried to keep his voice calm, as though nothing was wrong.

            "Don't, hey Bobby me! Tell me it isn't true, that one of you dumb asses isn't possessed."

            He swallowed softly, "Neither of us are possessed..." He trailed off.

            "What are you hiding?" He sounded angry, very angry.

            "Don't freak out, we're both fine, I promise. Neither of us are possessed but Dean..."

            Dean shook his head vigorously, "No, no, don't you dare tell him." He hissed, fingers clenching on the wheel.

            "After we took care of Lilith, Dean became a demon." The words almost blurred together he spoke so quickly.

            Sam pulled the phone away from his ear as Bobby began to shout, angrily, "You assholes! Did you even think? Did either of you think?! What the hell was going through Dean's head?"

            He laughed nervously, "Well, see, that's just it, hell was going through his head."

            Dean glared at him, "Sam, shut up." He hissed, pulling over.

            "Sam, he wouldn't want this. It's a demon, it isn't your brother." His voice sounded broken, "He wouldn't want to live like this, taken over by a demon."

            "You don't get it, it's Dean! It's what he wanted! We're still hunting, Bobby, we've been together the whole time! You have to understand!" He was pleading, he knew that, but he had to make him understand.

            "Where are you? Let me see you and Dean, I can make my own decision."

            Dean shook his head, "No! Don't you dare tell him where we are." The moment Sam opened his mouth to speak he grabbed the phone, snapping it closed, "Don't make me throw it out the window." He hissed, eyes flashing black.

            "Easy Dean, it's ok, he doesn't know where we are." He laid a hand on his arm, "It's ok, we need to get the rest of the ingredients, let's focus on that and not worry about Bobby."

            He took a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment, "I'm good, what else do we need?" He pulled back onto the road.

            "Demon blood, the blood of a virgin, the blood of..." He scowled, looking at the translation, "The tarnished soul? What's that?"

            "We have demon blood at least; I can open a vein for this. Virgin blood might be a little difficult to get but I can ask Alastair and that just leaves tarnished. Maybe your blood would work; you're kind of tarnished but still shiny."

            "Thanks, I think, why don't you ask Alastair when you hit him up for virgin blood?" He shot back, rolling his eyes.

            Dean laughed, "Don't get your panties in a twist princess; I'll see what he knows. Let's find a motel so I can ask, I don't want to spill blood in the Impala." He paused, "Unless you just want me to go down there for a few minutes to ask in person."

            "Go ahead and go down, I know you like seeing him. Just, can you leave your body looking like its asleep or something?"

            He gave him an odd look, "Are you scared?" The look on Sam's face was priceless, "You are! You're afraid of looking at my body without me in it!" He laughed so hard he had to pull onto the shoulder.

            Sam growled, "Shut up, jerk."

            "Bitch." He grinned, "Don't worry, I'll make it good."

            The rest of the trip to the motel Sam was nervous, especially with the look on Dean's face; he looked smug to say the least. The moment they were inside Dean started to hum, "I'm going to the bathroom." He eyed his brother wearily, closing himself in. After using the facilities and washing his face he stepped out, "Dean?"

            "Give me a minute, this has to be perfect."

            The lights were off and it made him nervous, "Hurry up, I don't want to stand in the dark."

            He could hear the snap of fingers and the lights came on. His brother was laid out over his bed, one hand resting high on his thigh; his other arm was draped over his eyes. His lips were slightly parted and his legs spread and relaxed. To top it off he was only wearing a pair of boxers.

            "I'll be back in a little bit Sammy." The black smoke that was his brother disappeared into the ground leaving a stunned Sam standing there staring at his brother's empty body, a body that was posed in a lewd position.

 

-Dean-

 

            It was good to be back in hell. He didn't arrive exactly where he wanted to, especially since Alastair wasn't there. What pleased him was the fact that Alastair had left a soul in his work room, all strapped in and waiting for a session. This meant the elder demon was planning on coming back soon. It was a woman; she appeared in her twenties, pretty with ebony hair and bright blue eyes.

            She finally noticed he was there, "You have to help me!" Her voice left a little to be desired but it was probably because she had been screaming.

            "Are you alright?" He moved over to her, feigning concern, his fingers reached for the shackles.

            "Please, let me down, he's coming back!" Her eyes were panicked, "You have to help me out of here, I don't belong here!"

            He tugged at the shackles, "I can't get them loose!"

            "Dean." It was Alastair's voice, rolling his name over his tongue as if it were the sweetest candy, "I know you're here, Dean."

            His eyes widened and he gave them another tug, allowing one of them to loosen a bit, just enough that she could slip her hand out, "Thank you, oh God, where is he?"

            His eyes darted around the room, "He's not here yet but he will be soon, we don't have much time."

            "Dean, when I find you I'm going to slowly cut out your heart and feed it to you."

            He backed away from her, "I'm sorry, I have to go." He looked at her, panic in his eyes.

            "No, no, don't leave me, please!" Tears tracked down her cheeks as he backed away from her, straight into Alastair.

            "Deano, it's such a pleasure to see you." He licked up his throat slowly, "To what do I owe this visit?"

            He relaxed in his grasp, letting out a low sound, "Just an ingredient and a question."

            "Ah, are you still working on that spell?" He slid his hands up his sides, under his shirt.

            "Yes, I require virgin blood and what is the tarnished soul?" He groaned softly, smirking at the bound soul.

            She let out a cry, scrambling with her bonds, "Please, let me go."

            The pair ignored her, "Your brother should fit the bill. It's a soul that has been marked. If you weren't a demon you would apply as well. The virgin blood is easy." He nibbled at his throat, holding him close against his chest, "Do you have time to play a little?"

            A low groan escaped his lips as he arched back against him, "Mm, yes, I can make time to play a little bit." He tipped his head back and to the side, resting it on his shoulder.

            Alastair kissed and nibbled his throat softly, "Would you like to play with her while I take you, own you, reclaim you?" His fingers gripped his hips tightly, bruising his skin.

            "Yes." His body arched before he pulled away, sauntering toward her. She sobbed softly, unable to get the bindings free, "Shh." He stroked her cheek softly, grasping her wrist firmly and sliding it back into the shackle, "Everything is fine." He cooed, smiling sweetly at her as he bound her wrist securely to the rack, "What did you do to get sent down here?" He kept his voice quiet, calming, stroking her hair back from her face.

            She sobbed softly, breath hitching, "Please, I want to go home."

            His eyes narrowed slightly, "Tell me, come now, you'll feel better if you let it all out."

            "I-I wanted a good job, a husband, and a son, I wanted a good life."

            His grin widened, "Let me guess, someone told you that you could have it all in exchange for ten years. Ten years and they would come to collect." She nodded, "You made a deal with a demon, baby. You belong here now, in hell, and we're the welcoming committee." He paused, "Allow me to introduce us, this is Alastair, head torturer and current ruler of hell, and I am Dean, his partner." He bowed slightly, "You got lucky that he chose you, it isn't every day that Alastair takes on a new soul."

            Alastair moved close behind him, picking up his favorite blade and sliding it into Dean's hand, "Strip for me first, just will those pesky clothes of yours away so that I may play with you."

            His eyes closed for a moment, his clothing melting away. He slid the blade down her cheek, watching a small trickle of blood well up against her skin. The elder demon's fingers slipped down his throat, over his ribs. His fingers found a nipple, tweaking it softly. As Dean carved with his blade Alastair carved with his fingers, pressing and massaging his flesh. When a hand was wrapped around his turgid length he slipped the blade deeper than meaning to, a gout of blood spurting across his face. The sound of disappointment in his ear made him shudder and whimper.

            "I can see you've forgotten how to do this properly." He shook his head, "You can enjoy what I'm doing and still focus on your work." He nibbled at his mark, "Begin again."

            He took a deep calming breath before beginning to carve again. The white eyed demon's hands were relentless, working his flesh like a well loved instrument. It felt like forever before his fingers delved inside and this time he was ready for the sharp jolt of pleasure. He kept the blade steady as he was worked open on those long fingers. The woman on the rack became secondary, his body working on auto pilot as his hips sought more pleasure. He kept his eyes focused on her; the room was filled with her screams as he continued to cut.

            "Take me." He hissed, hands clenching as Alastair retrieved his fingers.

            "Easy." He purred, nudging against his hole, "Keep still while I sink into you." He sucked at his earlobe as he slowly slid inside, filling him with his flesh.

            He laid the blade aside, his fingers moving to dig into her flesh as he was slowly entered. Alastair always took his time, loving to see Dean come undone. His hips pulled back before sinking forward, watching as Dean's fingers dug deeply into her skin, tearing at her flesh. Her screams filled the room as she was torn apart. A constant stream of moans and profanities escaped the young demon as he pressed back, trying to get him to go faster, harder, to take him the way he most liked. He kept steady, rubbing against his spot with each rotation of his hips.

            A low hiss echoed through his ear as he thrust back against his tormentor, "Tear her to pieces, Deano. She sold her soul for this, for eternal suffering at the hands of demons." He bit the lobe sharply, "Make her pay for that perfect life she got."

            He howled, grabbing and ripping as he was pounded into, "Close! Harder!" His voice came out as a growled demand, his hips jerking back with each thrust as he tore her to pieces with his bare hands.

            One final snap in and they both came. Dean screamed his pleasure, locking up around him, sinking his teeth into Alastair's wrist, drinking deeply as his throat was bit into. The elder demon grunted softly as his hips jerked forward, his fingers digging into his hips, keeping him still as he rode through his release. They slowly lowered to the floor, panting softly; Dean was limp against him, nuzzling weakly at his shoulder.

            "Wow."

            Alastair chuckled, "Glad I impressed you." His fingers rubbed at the wounds on his hips softly, "As soon as we can move again I'll get you that virgin blood."

            "I don't want to move, it's been too long."

            He chuckled, shaking his head, "It's been longer for me. Do you think I want to let you go?"

            "True but you know I have to go back. Sam can't take care of himself." He smirked, smiling up at him, groaning as Alastair softened, sliding out of him, "I guess that's our cue."

            In an instant they were both clothed and clean of blood, "Now, to remember where I put that blood." He trailed off, getting to his feet and looking through his shelves.

            The shelves that lined the workroom were stocked with all manner of strange ingredients. Bones and blood, all things rare and unusual. Alastair never let him go through his things but he had given lessons on each object. They were all neatly labeled as well, but the script was ancient. He had learned most of it over the ten years he had spent here before Castiel came for him.

            "Need help finding it?" He looked over what was left of the woman on the rack.

            "No, no, here it is." He pulled out a small vial, "This should be enough for the two of you." He tossed him the vial, smirking as Dean almost dropped it.

            "Thanks." He paused, "How do we get things out of hell?"

            Alastair laughed, "I'll send you and the vial out. It will be in your coat pocket. Close your eyes."

            Dean gasped, opening his eyes, looking down at his body, "Oh, come on!"

 

-Sam-

 

            He couldn't believe that Dean left himself in that position, almost touching himself. When Dean came back he was going to be in for a surprise. He repositioned him soon after he left. Tying him spread eagle to the bed, if his brother wanted to be sultry he would take it a step further. On the ceiling he taped a note.

            "Oh, come on!" Dean's voice rang through the motel room, prompting him to step out of the bathroom.

            "Look who's back!" He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest, looking down at his bound brother.

            He rolled his eyes, "Really, Sammy? I heard you liked being tied up, since you left yourself in such an awesome position I couldn't help it.' Let me loose!"

            "Nope." He looked smug, "Not going to untie you. You can stay this way tonight."

            He tugged at the ropes, "You know I can undo this, right?" He smirked.

            "Nope, you can't. I burned sigils into the ropes, your powers won't work. You get to wait until I undo them."

            Dean's eyes bled black, "Sammy!" He growled, snarling and tugging again.

            "Get some sleep, Dean." He smirked; lying in bed and closing his eyes, letting himself slowly drift.

            "Sammy, did you mark up the bed too?" His voice was quiet and Sam could picture the smile on his face.

            He didn't open his eyes, "You know I did." He smiled back.

            He grumbled, "We'll never be able to stay in a Motel 6 again."

            Sam laughed, settling down and falling asleep for the night. He woke up bright and early to find Dean's eyes locked on him, "Good morning."

            "Morning Sammy, can you untie me now?" He gave him his most innocent look.

            "You do need a shower; guess I can let you up." He paused, "Going to leave your body in lewd positions again?"

            "I dunno, are you going to tie me up again?" He countered.

            He moved to the bedside, touching the knots, "I think you like it, so don't complain." He released the knot before moving to free his other arm before his feet, "Take a shower, you stink."

            "I'm all stiff now, happy?" He grumbled, rolling his shoulders and heading for the shower.

            He felt proud of himself. He hadn't known how long Dean would be gone and had acted fast. It had to be one of his favorite pranks yet. Of course his brother hadn't looked amused but he didn't care, it was worth it, or he hoped it would be worth it. Dean could be vindictive and as a demon he was downright unstable sometimes. While his brother was in the shower he opened the pamphlet again.

            "It is best not to anger a new demon. They can be volatile and vindictive and that nature can cause overreaction." This made Sam a little worried but he pressed on, "Do not apologize. If you have angered a demon it is in your best interest not to apologize. Stand your ground and do not show weakness." He could hope that Dean wasn't really mad at him for tying him up, "Stay on your guard for a few days after the event, this can mean the difference between avoiding retribution and falling into a trap."

            The shower turned off and he slid the pamphlet back into his bag. Dean came out, dressed and ready to go, "Why aren't you dressed yet?"

            "Was trying to decide where we should go for the ritual. Did Alastair give you an answer on the tarnished soul?" He pulled on his jeans before changing his shirt.

            "Yep, you qualify so we've got all we need." He grabbed the translation, looking it over, "We need a wide open and secluded area since we have to be naked." He waggled his eyebrows, grinning, "Somewhere we won't be disturbed."

            The pair got into the Impala, Dean behind the wheel. They headed out of town, looking for a large field to suit their purposes. It was ten miles out of town when they found the perfect location. The field was flat, open, and lined by trees, they had almost missed it. Dean pulled off the road, making sure the virgin blood was in his coat like Alastair said it would be. They worked in silence, taking the three jars of vampire blood and getting two more empty jars as well as first aid supplies. The trek to the middle of the field was a long one but the location was ideal. Both of them stripped, putting their clothes into a pile far enough away that they would stay clean.

            "Ok, bleed into this jar." He handed it over, "And my tarnished blood goes in here." He ordered, slitting his wrist and holding it over the jar.

            Both jars were soon filled and Sam wrapped his wrist with a bandage. He didn't cut deep enough to need stitches and Dean was already healed. Dean took two jars of vampire blood, starting to walk in a large circle, making a blood circle big enough for both of them. Sam took the remaining one, using it to draw symbols at the four directions. All three jars were empty after drawing the sigil on the ground, that left the final three to draw the marks on themselves. Dean picked up the virgin blood, dipping is fingers in it before beginning to draw sigils onto Sam's face, chanting softly as he worked. When he finished he handed the vial to Sam who repeated the process. The blood of the tarnished soul came next, they drew the sigils across their backs, the demon blood formed the marks on their chests. They stood facing each other in the center of the circle, hands clasped together as they began to chant. The vampire blood began to glow before bursting into flames, igniting in a ring of fire. The sigils painted on their bodies shined in the firelight as they continued their chant until it suddenly turned black, falling to ash. They fell to the ground as the fire winked out.

 

-Crowley-

 

            It had been days and he was still strapped to the rack. He wasn't sure what Alastair had in store but he honestly didn't want to find out. The torture the two of them had subjected him to was more than enough. He hoped the king would let him down soon, if he did he would be happy to do whatever he asked, at least for the time being.

            "Good evening, Crowley, how are you feeling?" He paused, "Repentant?"

            "What would you have me do?"

            Alastair smiled, "Good response. You are to find out what the angels want with Sam. It should be quite simple for one of your...talents."

            He waited for Alastair to release his bonds. He would do this and then, then he would find a place to lay low. The moment he was free he cleaned up, his suit reappearing. He wanted to rub his wrists but refrained, not wanting to show weakness.

            "I will be back when I have what you want." He disappeared in a cloud of red smoke.

            He didn't like Uriel or Zachariah but they were his contacts with the angels, they were working for Michael, or he assumed so. What he disliked most was summoning the winged menaces. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he began to draw the circle, chanting softly before sitting back to wait. They liked to take their time, much to his chagrin. He much preferred things prompt and on time. It was Zachariah who showed up, out of the two of them he was preferable but both of them were dicks.

            "Let's cut to the chase, Zachariah, you want Sam Winchester, I have access to him, however I need to know why you want him. You tell me why and I can see about acquiring the little nuisance." He wanted to spend as little time as possible in their presence.

            The angel eyed him, "Where one brother goes the other follows. Sam Winchester is leverage."

            Crowley scowled, "Leverage for what?"

            "The purification of Dean Winchester."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding Supernatural, nor do I make anything from writing this.

 

-Alastair-

 

            Crowley looked shaken as he stood before the torturer. It was defiantly a surprise, he wasn't sure he had ever seen the demon look so off his game. The crossroads demon clenched his hands slightly before releasing them; red eyes locked on Alastair's white ones.

            "Well? What have you discovered?" He was getting impatient; this had better be worth his time.

            "They want to purify Dean and they want to use Sam as leverage."

            He fell silent, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of his blade, eyes locked on Crowley, "I will destroy them all." He hissed angrily, "Go back up there and inform the boys of this information." His hand began to bleed as he gripped his blade too tight.

            So Michael wanted his vessel, he wanted his partner, and he just couldn't stand for that, Dean was his, not some pompous halo wearing nut ball's. He was sure Crowley would warn them, just as he was sure he wasn't going to see the demon for awhile. Heaven had his number and with the information they gave him he was sure they would be after him next. He dropped his blade, looking down at his bloodied fingers. He raised his hand, gazing at the blood before lapping it up slowly.

            "I will be coming for you very soon." He growled, looking up at the sky toward Heaven.

 

-Dean-

 

            The ritual had been a success although waking up naked in the middle of a field was not high on his list of things he wanted to do again. Sam had been a little more worse for wear. It took him a lot longer to wake up but at least Dean dressed him before carrying him back to the Impala. He had thought about leaving him naked as revenge for being tied up but decided against it. There had been a note waiting for them back at the Impala, from Crowley. The angels were ultimately after him and wanted to use Sammy to do it. He pinned the note to Sam's shirt before getting behind the wheel.

            "Dean?" Sam didn't sound so hot.

            "Go back to sleep Sammy." He pulled his jacket off, draping it over him, "I'll find us a hotel and you can rest."

            "Ok." He mumbled, drifting back off.

            He found them a hotel, a little more upscale than they were used to but Sam needed rest. He carried his brother to their room, tucking him into bed before beginning to ward the room against angels. He needed to go out and get some food for when Sam woke up but making sure he was safe came first.

            "You get some rest, I'll be back soon." He closed the door behind him.

            Instead of taking the Impala he decided to walk, some fresh air would do him good. What he didn't expect to see was Bobby dressed in a suit or the cops that immediately swarmed him when he went near the diner.

            "Hey man, get off me!" He jerked in their grasp, his eyes shifting to Bobby. He older hunter turned and walked away.

            As long as he was there he wasn't going to use his abilities, wouldn't harm these humans, "You're under arrest for breaking and entering." The cuffs snapped closed around his wrists.

            "Breaking and entering? Come on, I just got into town!" He allowed himself to be ushered into the back seat, "You're making a huge mistake."

            Neither of the officers would talk to him as he was taken to the station. Bobby was waiting for them. He was tossed into an interrogation room with the old hunter. Slowly he rested his hands on the table, looking up at him.

            "Agent." He paused, "I'm right in assuming that I hope, you are an FBI agent, aren't you?"

            "I had them turn off the cameras, they can't hear us."

            He sighed softly, "Alright Bobby, you've got me, what do you plan on doing now? I don't want to hurt you but I can't let you kill me either."

            "Where's Sam?" His eyes were hard but Dean could see how much he cared by the softness behind the anger.

            He toyed with the links between the cuffs, "Back at the hotel." He paused, "Did you think I would hurt Sammy? I'm trying to protect him from those winged bastards."

            "What do the angels want with Sam?"

            "I don't know and I don't care, they're not getting him. Bobby, I know you don't trust me..."

            "Damn right I don't, you went and became a demon or you're possessed by one. You don't want that, if you really were Dean you wouldn't want to be possessed."

            He slowly rubbed his eyes, running his hands through his hair, "I did what I had to do. You wouldn't understand, you haven't been to hell." He was becoming exasperated, "If you're going to kick me out of my body at least bring Sam some food, he's at the Morningstar Hotel, room 370, there's a key in the stuff they took from me."

            "I'll make sure he gets food but I'm going to leave you here." He paused, "If you escape, if you kill anyone here, I will track you down and send you back to hell. Am I clear?"

            He grinned, "As crystal. Take care of Sammy; he's still eating that rabbit food no matter how hard I try to get him to have a burger."

            Bobby nodded, walking out the door, leaving Dean to sit at the table and wait for another officer to show up. He was left in a cell for the night and yet he had every intention of walking out by morning, not harming anyone of course. He laid back on the bed, hands laced behind his head, and a dark grin on his face as his eyes flashed black.

 

-Bobby-

 

            The demon was true to his word; Sam was just where he said he'd be, asleep and tucked into bed. He put the salad on the nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Seeing Dean like that he could almost believe he wasn't a demon. He hadn't seen black empty eyes, only the green that had always been there and his personality was intact as well. He had to be strong, for Sam. The younger Winchester had a huge blind spot when it came to his brother. Dean wasn't Dean, he had to remember that, no matter how much he looked and acted like Dean he knew that wasn't him, it couldn't be.

            Sam let out a soft groan, rolling over, "Dean?"

            He shook his head, "No, it's Bobby, you look like shit, son."

            "Bobby, where's Dean?" He was more alert at the mention of his brother.

            "He's fine, I didn't exorcise him but I needed to talk to you without him."

            He scowled, "Where is he?" He sat up, noticing the salad.

            "Eat and we can talk." He pointed to the salad, his voice a gruff order.

            "You look sad." He began to eat, "Bobby, Dean is still Dean."

            "Tell me everything, from the beginning."

 

-Dean-

 

            He began to hum, closing his ebony eyes and cocking his head to the side. The lights began to flicker, sputtering angrily as Dean exerted his will. He could hear a drunk in the next cell call out for an officer. The moment the cop came through the door he stopped, the lights stabilizing.

            "Be quiet Fred, sleep it off!" He shouted, grumbling softly about crazy drunks.

            "Yeah Freddy boy, some of us need our beauty sleep." Dean shot back down the hall, snickering softly.

            He snapped his fingers, the lights going out and Fred screamed. They were back on by the time the officer returned, "I told you to get some sleep Fred!" He walked down to the cell, looking in.

            "Something's making the lights go out man; you can't leave me in here!" He grasped the bars, tugging at them; Dean could imagine the panic in his eyes.

            "You're drunk, get some sleep."

            Dean stood, approaching the bars, "Hey, I'd like to get some sleep, maybe I can get a different cell, he's freaking me out, yelling about lights and all kinds of crazy shit. Maybe he's on something stronger than booze."

            "Fred." The officer sighed, "What else did you take?"

            He stepped back from the bars, forcing Dean to lean forward to see what was going on. He flicked his wrist, summoning the keys from the cop's belt. Silently he unlocked his door, stepping out.

            "J-Just a little pot, I'm not hallucinating, I swear!" Dean let his eyes go black, standing behind the young man, "J-Jim..." He stepped back from the bars, eyes wide.

            He turned slowly coming face to face with ebony eyes, "Hi, Jim, I'm a demon, the name's Dean, pleasure to meet you. I'm afraid we're going to have to cut this meeting short, I have to be going." He flicked his wrist sending Jim into his now vacated cell, "Have a good night." He snapped his fingers, the door locking and the lights going out. The only sounds remaining were Fred's screams and the thump of Dean's boots on the concrete floor.

 

-Bobby-

 

            A soft sigh escaped his lips. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Dean was the partner of the new ruler of hell and to top it off he became a demon to get rid of his conscience. He couldn't live with remembering hell so his solution was to give in to the dark side, he couldn't believe it. He supposed that therapy was out of the question, especially with their line of work, but he had Bobby and Sam, they would have listened. Bobby had placed a devil's trap at the door, Sam wasn't going to do it but he had a feeling Dean was going to get out of jail sooner rather than later. Sam had finished the story and his salad awhile ago but Bobby still couldn't wrap his mind around Dean's new condition and the fact that he wanted it. If he came before he was gone he would send him back to hell, it wasn't good for Sam to be faced with a demon that looked and acted like his brother.

            "Sammy! I'm back!" He pushed open the door, stepping inside.

            "Dean! Stop!" Sam shouted but it was too late, Dean stepped right into the trap.

            He hissed lowly, "Dammit Bobby!" He pushed his hand on the barrier, "Let me out."

            Bobby began to chant. Dean twitched, gasping, trying to keep still, trying to keep in. His eyes were black as he turned them pleadingly on Sam. His brother grabbed Bobby's arm, it was obvious he was still weak from the ritual or he would be doing a better job of stopping him.

            He gasped for breath, growling, "Fuck, Sammy, I'll be back as soon as I can." He glared at Bobby, his head snapping back as his black smoke form poured from his mouth.

            "You're not taking his body." Sam's voice was an angry hiss, "Don't you dare do a thing to it."

            "Sam..." He looked tired, weary, "It had to be done."

            "Don't you tell me that! He's my brother! I love you Bobby but you're not taking his body, I'll stop you."

            He held his hands up, "Okay, okay, I give up."

            He flopped back on the bed, "Good, I have to get him into the Impala, he'll be safe there." He forced himself up, moving to the body and struggling to pick it up. Bobby was here in a flash, "I've got it." He said softly.

            "Let me help. I promise I won't do anything." He hoisted the limp body over his shoulder, letting Sam lead. They put the body in the trunk, making sure it was secure before going back inside.

            "Bobby Singer, we owe you a debt for leading us to Sam and getting Dean out of the way." Uriel appeared in the parking lot, slowly moving forward.

            Sam swallowed hard, glaring at the angel, moving backwards toward the door. Bobby placed himself between Sam and the angel, "You're not getting near him."

            The moment Uriel raised his hand Bobby felt himself pushed toward the door with Sam, "Castiel, why do you work against us, your brothers?" He moved forward.

            Castiel stood between the two parties, blue eyes hard, locked on Uriel, "Uriel, taking Sam will not get you what you desire." He stated calmly, not moving from his place.

            Bobby ushered Sam inside, closing the door and locking it, "How do you keep an angel out?"

            "Dean already took care of it; we're warded so long as we're inside."

            Bobby looked outside, watching as Castiel and Uriel began to fight. Cas was on the ground, bleeding. Uriel approached slowly, very slowly. He could see the blue eyed angel drawing something on the ground in blood before turning his gaze to the other angel and slamming his bloodied hand down on the mark. Uriel let out a cry of anger, his voice shattering the window as he disappeared. The angel on the ground took a slow breath, getting to his feet.

            "It is safe but you should part ways. They are using you to find Sam since he is protected."

            "Thanks, Cas. How did you do it?" Sam moved to the window, looking down at the sigil in blood.

            "It banishes angels." He replied simply, "I must go before I put you at risk, I will be watching out for you, Sam, you know how to reach me." He disappeared.

            "It was good to see you Bobby but we need to get out of here." He moved to the Impala, getting behind the wheel, "I'll call you when things calm down." With that he was gone, leaving Bobby standing in the parking lot.

 

-Alastair-

 

            To say that he was surprised when Dean literally fell into his lap would be an understatement. He was not only surprised but a little angry. If Dean was down here so soon then something happened topside. It also meant that Sam was alone. He immediately strapped his partner to the rack before he came to from his fall. He waited patiently, watching as he slowly woke up.

            "Alastair?" He groaned softly, tugging at his bonds, realizing he was bound to the rack.

            "Yes, Dean." He tapped his blade against his boy's cheek, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your sudden appearance?"

            He swallowed hard, "Bobby exorcised me."

            "He what?" His voice came out in a low hiss, "How could you allow yourself to be sent back?" The blade slid into his skin, "You have work to do topside, you're supposed to be more careful then that."

            He cried out, this was not torture for pleasure, this was punishment for not being more aware, for not paying attention, "I know!" He jerked slightly, "But you can send me back, it isn't that hard." He exclaimed, panting softly as blood trickled down his chest from a slash of Alastair's blade.

            "It isn't a matter of being able to or not! You should do your best to avoid running into this situation in the first place!" He drew another line of pain down his chest, over his nipple.

            He let out a cry of pain as he sliced into his other nipple, "Shit! Stop! I'll carve the binding into myself! I can break it if I want to come back!"

            He sighed softly, putting the blade aside, "Dean, Dean, you need more strength to deal with what's coming." He slit his wrist, holding it to his lips, "Drink."

            His throat worked as he swallowed, drinking it down hungrily, as much as Alastair would let him have. It was more than he had been given before. He swallowed down the thick blood, eyes falling closed. Alastair stroked through his hair, tugging lightly at the strands. It was Dean who pulled back, gasping softly.

            "I keep forgetting I don't need to breathe." He laughed softly, gasping.

            He shook his head, "It should be enough for now." He looked up with a sigh, "Let's get you back up there and I'd better not see you down here again without prior arrangement. I will see you in a week."

            He snapped his fingers, sending Dean back to his body. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if Dean didn't learn his lesson. His boy was intelligent, he knew how to plan, and yet he could be so very impulsive. He sighed softly, looking at the empty rack, he was the best choice for a partner but that didn't make it any easier to deal with the difficulty that is Dean Winchester. Right now his plans hinged on Dean staying topside. Crowley was out of the picture for the moment but the angels needed to be dealt with and Dean needed more strength to do it. The angels would be hard pressed to smite him now but it was still possible and if they wanted to purify him to make him clean and shiny for Michael he needed to be even stronger to resist. In the meantime if Sam was captured it would draw Dean out and he couldn't stand for that.

 

-Dean-

 

            He gasped, opening his eyes and jerking upright, smacking his head on the lid of the trunk. At least Sam was kind enough to save his body from Bobby. He didn't want to think about what would happen if Bobby burned his body. At least Sam had been able to convince him of that. The Impala was running smoothly but they were on a very bumpy road and he could feel the jostle of each pothole that Sam ran over. He growled, Sam was going to pay for finding every last pothole. They finally came to a stop, he popped open the trunk, groaning and stepping out, stretching, hearing his joints pop. Sam got out of the car, walking toward him.

            "Damn Sammy, you stuffed me in there all weird." He turned his neck, "Good on saving my body, I appreciate it. Why aren't we still at the hotel?"

            "Angels. They were following Bobby since they couldn't track us. After Bobby exorcised you they took the chance. Cas showed up and saved us, got rid of Uriel."

            "Great, I'm glad Cas was around. We can't take on angels, we know how to exorcise them but we can't fight them. So for now we work on our hunts and do our best to avoid them. Unless you have any other ideas."

            He shook his head, "Just avoidance and we will have to avoid people we know unless we want them to find us."

            "Let's find a hunt then, we have to keep moving." He paused, "And Sammy, try to avoid potholes in the future or I'll find a really deep one and leave you in it." He smiled happily, getting behind the wheel.

            Sam read through the newspapers he gathered from the hotel room on their way out. There were signs of food attacking citizens, most of the articles claimed that the people affected must have been on drugs or were hallucinating.

            "I know where we're going, Yuma Arizona."

            "What's down there?"

            Sam grinned, looking over at him, "Food is attacking people."

            "Yuma it is!" He headed south.

            It was a full day before they arrived and Dean was ecstatic that he didn't have to sleep. He couldn't wait to see food attack although he hoped it wasn't pie that was responsible. Sam slept for the last leg of their journey. When they arrived Dean immediately went for the diner, far more interested in seeing attack food than rest. Sam jerked awake when the Impala parked.

            "This isn't a hotel." He mumbled, looking at Dean.

            "Food! Since this job is all about food we should start sampling the fare! Come on, get up, let's eat!"

            He shook his head but climbed out of the car, stretching, "Would have rather slept a bit longer but you just want pie, I hope it bites you." He grumbled, heading for the door.

            "Aww, Sammy, don't be like that. Who knows, maybe your salad will bite you!" He snickered as they took a seat in an empty booth.

            "What can I get for you?" Their waitress as an older lady but still in her prime with brunette hair that was slowly going grey and hazel eyes.

            Dean gave her his most charming smile, "Well, Denise, I will have a piece of that delicious looking cherry pie and my brother will have a salad with lite ranch."

            "And two coffees, please." Sam laid his head on the table.

            "You look exhausted, poor thing; I'll be right out with your order." She put their order in, coming back with a fresh pot of coffee.

            Dean got his pie first with a dollop of whipped cream, "Thank you." He took a bite, groaning, "Perfect, just perfect."

            She smiled, getting Sam his salad, "Thank you, the coffee really helped."

            The minute his fork stabbed into the salad he knew something was wrong. It made a strange sound before launching off his place and attacking his face. Lettuce began trying to bite him as he fought with it, trying to pull it off.

            Dean was frozen, staring at the attacking salad in surprise, "It's true." He burst out laughing, "Attack of the killer salad."

            "Dean! Help me out here." He struggled with a particularly large piece.

            He shook his head, springing to action, helping to pull the leafy vegetable from his face, "That was the most hilarious thing I've ever seen."

            Blood trickled down his face from small cuts left by onions and croutons, Dean thought he looked amazing with blood and white goop covering his face but Sam was not amused, not one bit, "Dean, I swear to God, if you say one word about this I will throw this attack salad at you and let it eat you."

            He barely held in a snicker, his eyes bright with humor, "So, umm, what do you think it is?" Sam pressed a plate over the bowl, trying to keep the still violent salad in place, "Want a napkin?" He held it out, snickering.

            "Shut...up." The salad gave one more buck before going still.

            "I would say it's a salad ghost. Just have to figure out the attachment."

 

-Alastair-

 

            The answer was in front of him all along, angels. He needed to harness their power for his own, steal their grace to increase his own power. This would require some extensive research which would require him to...acquire, one of the winged menaces. He would also need an angel blade, when he had been cast from Heaven they hadn't been allowed to keep their blades. This was going to have to be something he would have to do on his own, Dean and Sam had enough to worry about and Crowley was hiding like the coward he is. Starting small would be his best bet, it wouldn't do to jump the gun and take on one of the higher ups, he would need a low ranked angel. Of course he wasn't going to find an angel in hell, that would make it too easy, but he could drag one down. He found a thick pair of shackles to take with him, engraving binding sigils into the metal. Hell would be fine without him for a few hours or days. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling himself rush topside. His favorite vessel was always waiting for him, he had a feeling this one enjoyed being possessed by him so he took good care of the body.

            "Now, how to find a winged rat." He tapped a finger against his chin. He didn't have to wait long, one of them found him. He was sure it wasn't intentional; the angel was young, at least by comparison. He also held an angel blade; it was his lucky day, "Good evening, angel." He smirked, moving forward, "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

            "Foul creature, you do not belong in this world." The angel moved forward, not seeming to realize exactly who he was dealing with.

            He smiled broadly, "Come, I have a rack set up just for you." He met the angel halfway, delivering the first blow.

            The angel retaliated, the blade flashing in his hand. Alastair was faster, grabbing his wrist and squeezing, forcing him to drop the blade. The angel's hand glowed blue as he pressed it to the demon's forehead. He smirked darkly, taking the opportunity to snap one of the shackles to his wrist. He looked surprised, was frozen long enough for him to snap the other shackle into place and pick up the blade.

            "Release me!" His eyes glowed with blue light as he tried to break them.

            The torturer let his eyes roll to white as he tapped the blade to his lips, "I think not. Have you ever been to hell? You're going to love it." He snapped his fingers, whisking them below.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding Supernatural, nor do I make anything from writing this.

 

-Dean-

 

            It was Sam who figured out the ghost was attached to the produce delivery man. He had been having an affair and not with another woman, no, with a man. His wife had been heartbroken, killing herself in his delivery van by shutting it in the garage and turning it on. She was using the food to attack her victims, especially young men. That was how they found themselves in his house trying to figure out what he had done with her body.

            "Where did you bury your wife, Mr. Grayson?" Sam was the calmer of the two; Dean was getting impatient although it was wonderful to see Sam struggle with his meals.

            "Why does it matter?"

            Dean's lip curled into a snarl, "It matters because you cheated on your wife and now she's attacking people with produce because you couldn't keep it in your pants. Answer the question, where did you bury your wife?" His voice was a low growl.

            He pressed himself back into the couch, eyes wide, "S-Sunset Vista Cemetery."

            "That wasn't so hard, was it? Let's go." He looked at the man, "I hope you've learned your lesson, cheating is bad." He stood, Sam following after.

            "Did you really have to scare him?"

            "Yes, that idiot was too wrapped up in himself to care about anything else. I hope this gets it through his head that the world doesn't revolve around him." He grumbled, getting behind the wheel.

            Sam directed them to the cemetery, now they just had to find her grave and dig it up. Night was falling by the time they found it. He hadn't even sprung for a special message. The tombstone consisted of her name and dates of birth and death. The brothers shook their heads before beginning to dig. Dean was a never ending font of energy, able to get down to the coffin in record time. As Sam began pouring salt over the remains he found himself thrown away, slamming into a tombstone. Dean let out a shout, caught by surprise; the ghost stood there, her face contorted in anger.

            "Sammy!" He snarled, his brother wasn't moving and blood dripped from his temple, "Look at me, bitch." He growled lowly, eyes burning black, flickering to red and yellow as he clenched his hand into a fist. The ghost screamed, eyes wide as she began to burn red, screeching as Dean destroyed her. His eyes burned with hellfire as he drove her into the ground, sending her soul to hell. He stepped forward, moving quickly to Sam's side, "Sam? Sammy?" He checked his pulse, his hand shaking slightly. It fluttered strongly under his fingers, "Don't you dare ever think of dying on me, I will hunt you down and drag you back kicking and screaming if I have to." He hugged him close before picking him up, "Making me go all chick flick." He shook his head, grabbing their tools and heading back to the car.

            "Dean?" Sam moaned softly as he was put in the backseat.

            "Easy Sammy, it's ok, can you stay awake for me?" He swallowed hard.

            "Dean, what's wrong with your eyes?" He scowled slightly, looking up at him through hazy eyes.

            "Just stay awake, I'm going to get us back to the hotel, you have to stay awake, ok? You have a concussion at least."

            "My head hurts. Did you get the ghost?"

            He swallowed hard, taking them to their hotel, thankful he was conscience, "Yeah, I ganked her ass. She won't be bothering anyone anymore."

            He couldn't run the risk of his brother dying. He was human, he could be hurt badly, and Dean couldn't always protect him. He was worried, not just for how fragile Sam really was but he would die one day, he would leave him, and then what would he do? He had to look out for Sammy and he couldn't do that if he died. There had to be a solution, he just wasn't seeing it yet.

 

-Alastair-

 

            He could feel the grace pulsing beneath his fingers. The angel was bound tightly to the rack, his wings spread out with hooks. Hell was such a wonderful place; he could force the angel to manifest those pretty wings of his. He could remember how it felt to have wings, to have grace, and could feel the desire for it in the pit of his soul. This would strengthen him; he just had to figure out how to extract it properly. Grace could be a fickle thing and sneaky. He brought the angle blade up, sliding it against his throat.

            "How do we extract your grace, that shiny pulse beneath your skin." He slid the blade down then back up, nicking the skin. He could see the brightness of his grace in the wound, "And it hides inside." He smirked, "How do we extract it, little angel? Does it just simmer here, waiting for someone to tease it out?"

            The angel hissed at him, "You shall never have an angel's grace, demon."

            He grinned, smirking at him darkly, "I did once, had my own grace, I'm looking forward to tasting it once again." He closed his lips around the wound.

            He moaned, feeling the grace against his tongue. He lapped it up, working the wound open further, drinking in his grace, feeling it fill him. His eyes falling closed as he felt it fill him fully. His fingers gripped at his hair, pulling his head back. The last of his grace slid past his lips, filling him with long forgotten strength.

            "Y-You...fiend..." He hissed lowly, hanging limp in his bonds.

            "I have been called many things but that is the most un-creative insult I've ever encountered." He smirked, "Without your grace do you know what happens? You become mortal. Do you know what happens to mortals in hell?"

            The angel's eyes widened comically, "No..."

            His smile widened, "Yes." He hissed lowly, "You become just like the souls here and you _will_ become a demon."

 

-Castiel-

 

            Angels had begun vanishing without a trace. They weren't being killed they were just suddenly gone. There was no reason to kidnap an angel unless they possessed information but angels didn't commonly break. There was something else going on here. The demons had been oddly silent as well. There were still problems with them but Alastair seemed to be planning something. Dean and Sam were well hidden again and there was only one ritual that could hide them so well. It was good they had performed it but he was beginning to miss his talks with Sam. Uriel was licking his wounds after their fight and he was doing his best to stay off their radar. With the disappearance of angels they weren't worried about Castiel. All of the angels that had gone missing were low ranking. Even the lowest ranking angel could smite a demon, leaving that avenue out, there weren't many things that could take out an angel but they weren't finding bodies.

            "Castiel, what have you done?" It was a young angel, loyal to Zachariah.

            He sighed softly, meeting her gaze, "I have done nothing untoward. The Winchesters deserve our protection; they do not deserve to be damaged in the pursuit of power."

            "You would betray us for those humans? Go against your brothers?" She shook her head, moving closer, "Come home, Castiel, it will be better for you if you come willingly."

            "No." His voice was firm, "Leave me. I have no desire to harm you but if you choose to attack me I shall defend myself."

            Her hands flew to her head as she stepped back away from him. Alastair stepped out from behind a nearby car, his hand raised, holding her with his powers, "Castiel, you've been taking good care of my boy and his brother."

            "Alastair." He narrowed his eyes, gaze locked on the demon.

            "It's so good to see you." He smiled darkly, pulling the angel blade from her sleeve, "She was planning on killing you." He offered it to him.

            Castiel took it slowly; weary of the demon, "Why have you come?"

            He closed his fingers, watching the female squirm, "To say thank you. You've taken good care of Dean and Sam, watched out for them; I'm impressed with your dedication."

            "What are you doing with the angels you take?" It was too easy for Alastair to hold her; she should have been able to at least fight.

            "Did you know that I was once an angel?" He asked conversationally, clenching his fingers tight, making her gasp in pain, "I was cast out with Lucifer, sent to hell. I excelled there. I was always a little different than my brothers. Now I rule hell and I would be happy to keep things running smoothly, to maintain the status quo, if your bosses would leave my boy and his brother alone." The sound of her neck snapping echoed through the parking lot, "They won't, I know they won't and so do you. I will do whatever is necessary to put an end to their meddling affairs. For an angel, I like you, you're not so bad, but if you stand in my way I will see to it that you will never interfere with my plans again, am I clear?"

            "Yes, I understand."

            He smiled amicable, "Good, now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He picked her up before disappearing.

            He fell to his knees, the power he felt rolling off of Alastair was growing and it frightened him. In that moment he knew what Alastair was doing, he was consuming their grace to increase his strength, all so he could kill Uriel and Zachariah, maybe even Michael. He shivered, he did not want to come between him and his targets, did not want to be the next one he took, and he certainly didn't want his grace to fuel the ex-angel. If he was taking the angels to hell they would become demons, they would fall after he consumed their grace. He refused to allow that to be his fate, his priority was protecting Sam and Dean and that is what he was going to do.

 

-Bobby-

 

            They were following him, seemed to be waiting for him to make contact with the boys again. He had no intention of doing so; it could wait until this whole situation was done with. He had put Sam at risk and he wasn't going to let that happen again. Then there was the matter of Dean. He didn't know what to do, he had checked on the jail he had escaped from, no one had been hurt or killed just a little shaken up. Sam had told him that Dean didn't hurt anyone, at least not anyone who didn't deserve it. Dean was still Dean, at least on some level, but he was also a demon and demons couldn't be trusted. Since the meeting with Castiel he had stepped up the protections on his home, including the banishing symbol. He wasn't sure if it would work made of metal and engraved into his wall but he was willing to give it a try. In all honesty he wasn't surprised when his door swung open and a balding man stood looking at him.

            "Bobby Singer, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've been waiting to talk to you, my name is Zachariah and I wanted to talk to you about Dean."

            He narrowed his eyes, "What about him?" He sliced open his palm, moving forward, close to the sigil.

            "It isn't right that he's a demon, he's meant for so much more. We want to fix him, make him human again."

            He paused next to the sigil, "How would you do that?"

            "In order to purify him we need to capture him. The problem is we can't find him but you can. If you bring him to us you'll be doing the world a great favor."

            "How about you take your plan and shove it up your ass? If Dean wanted to be a demon then that's his choice. You can't make the decision for him." He slammed his hand against the mark, smiling in satisfaction when Zachariah was removed from his home.

 

-Alastair-

 

            It was enough, it would have to be. The stolen grace would burn itself out eventually but for right now it would be enough until he could get Uriel's. He had no intention of turning that particular angel into a demon; he was on the kill list. Not only would he be too much trouble but he was just a general pain in the ass. He stood calmly in the middle of a large field, the same field Dean and Sam used for their ritual.

            "Uriel, Angel of The Lord." He sneered, the angel blade in hand, "I call thee, come before me." The flap of wings made him smile and the appearance of the angel made it grow.

            "Alastair." His lip curled up into a snarl, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

            "The pleasure is all mine." He moved forward so they were standing toe to toe, "You have something I want."

            "You have something I want as well. Your head, on a plate."

            He stepped back, letting the blade glint in his hand, "We will have to agree to disagree on what we're getting out of this."

            He swung, catching the angel across the cheek. Uriel snarled, lashing out in response, grabbing the collar of his shirt and throwing him across the field. Alastair rolled, pushing up onto his feet, spinning the blade between his fingers.

            "I can already taste it, angel." He dove, lashing out, the blade sliding across his throat. The rest of his momentum was used to pin the angel, "Say goodbye to your grace." He latched onto the wound, drinking it down. Uriel let out a final struggle before going limp, the last of his grace drained from him, "How does it feel to be human?"

            "What have you done?!" He pushed at the demon above him, struggling to get out from under him, "You foolish creature! What have you done?!"

            He smiled, running the blade down his cheek, "Now, the other angels I took grace from, they became demons but you, you won't get to enjoy the next phase of life, no Uriel, you are going to die." He drove the blade through his throat.

            He cleaned the blade before standing, leaving the dead angel in the middle of the field. He felt refreshed, stronger than ever, and in that moment he knew he could take on Zachariah. Hopefully removing two of the leading powers under Michael would throw things into disarray. Zachariah was next but he wasn't up for it just yet, he needed some time to let the new grace settle in.

 

-Sam-

 

            When Alastair showed up to spend time with his brother he knew something was off. It became even more apparent when Dean got back from his time with him. He could virtually feel the power rolling off the elder demon and it made him crave. He wanted to taste it, could imagine it on his tongue. There was always the chance he could relapse, that was made abundantly clear to him. He could smell the blood on Dean and he wanted it.

            "Dean..." He swallowed hard, looking at him, "I need some space."

            He scowled, "What's wrong?" He moved closer.

            "Can't you tell how powerful Alastair has become? It's too much for me, you smell like his power, his blood. I'm going to relapse if I'm around you right now."

            "I'll be outside, ok? If you need anything let me know. In an hour or so the blood should even out and we can try again, alright?"

            He nodded, gripping the edge of the bed, "Thanks."

 

-Dean-

 

            He stepped outside, giving Sam some space. Alastair was waiting for him. It surprised him; usually after they met up he left to go take care of things in hell. He blinked, leaning against the door, looking at his partner.

            "You're still here." He raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with him.

            "Yes, I thought you might like to join me in dispatching Zachariah."

            He scowled, "Since when do you hover outside waiting for me to come out?"

            His head cocked to the side slightly, reminding him a little too much of Castiel, "Does it bother you?"

            Dean slapped him, hard, "What the hell? That grace is messing with you." He sighed, "When this is over I'm going to put you on the rack."

            "Do you want to come?"

            He sighed, closing his eyes, "Yes, I want to come. Let me tell Sam." He opened the door, poking his head in, "Hey Sammy, you get some rest, if you need me, call. I'm going with Alastair to take care of Zachariah."

            Sam nodded, "Thanks for letting me know."

            He gave him a thumbs up before closing the door and going back to Alastair, "Let's go."

            The demon snapped his fingers, transporting them to the open field. Uriel's body had been cleaned up but there was still blood on the ground from where he had been killed, "Zachariah, Angel of The Lord, I call thee, come before me."

            Dean crossed his arms over his chest, standing off to the side, watching and waiting, "You're not eating this one." He hissed, glaring at his partner.

            "As you wish."

            A rustle of wings and Zachariah stood before them, "Alastair, Dean. Have you come to kill me as well? Drain my grace?"

            "I do not desire your grace." He drew the blade, "However you will die here tonight."

            Zachariah looked surprised, "I haven't heard you talk like that in an eternity. Grace affecting you more than you thought it would? Next thing you know you'll be sprouting wings."

            Dean snarled but it was Alastair who acted and Zachariah didn't expect the speed at which he moved. The blade sliced forward, catching his shoulder, just barely missing his throat. They tumbled to the ground, struggling in the dirt, the blade rolling to the side. Dean reached out. Feeling the blade snap into his hand, he moved forward, neither of them were paying attention to him. Alastair was beneath him, revealing the angel's back to Dean.

            "Hey, Zach." He grinned, the angel looking back, "Bye." He drove the blade into his throat. The shadow of wings burned into the ground almost making it look as though they belonged to the demon, "Now get up and take me back to Sam, I have an offer for him and then I will be back below and you had better be on a rack when I get there."

            Not another word passed between them as Alastair returned them to the hotel, "I will see you when you finish."

            Dean stepped inside to find Sam laying in bed, "Hey Sammy, feeling better?"

            "Yeah." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

            "Good, that's good." He pulled out his blade, running it over his arm, splitting the skin. He watched as the blood began to bead and trickle to the floor in thick drops, "I have a question for you and I know it isn't going to be easy..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus ends part 2! The 3rd part has already been started and will continue where this one left off. Let me know what you think! I hope you've enjoyed it so far.


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